


Gnarled

by deadheads



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Light BDSM, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:17:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2423417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadheads/pseuds/deadheads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gally always gets what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gnarled

She woke bound. 

Alone. 

Naked. 

The stone floor beneath her bare flesh was cold. Her head felt clouded, eyes groggy and vision flickering. 

Had she been drugged? 

‘Drugged.’ She thought, ‘I remember that word. Drugged.’ 

She tugged at her restraints, dark leather straps rubbing at her already raw wrists, the chains not giving way no matter how hard she tugged. 

‘How long have I been in these cuffs?’

No answers came.

The wooden wall they were attached to didn’t even creak as she struggled meekly, desperate to free herself. 

‘Useless.’

It felt like her limbs were jellied and her reaction time was in reverse. 

‘Definitely drugged. ‘

She struggled to even remember what she looked like. 

Her brain felt… empty. 

Too vast and much too void of anything.

She cycled through her head over and over, drawing only blanks, finding only empty spaces and missing memories. Something was very wrong. 

She couldn’t even remember her name.

Blinking, the girl shook her head, trying to clear the haze from her mind. Yet, there was no relief from her amnesia.

Fear.

That was the only thing she could hold onto with the world around her spinning out of control. The fear in her bones spreading like a cancer throughout her stiff body, cramping muscles spasming at the sudden rush of adrenaline. 

Her heartbeat was in her throat, thundering, as she swerved her head from side to side, searching desperately trying to survey her surroundings.

It was so dark she could barely see a foot in front of her. 

‘No light, no windows.’

She looked upwards, vision swimming at the sudden movement, making her lurch forward and hunch over her knees. Nausea swept over her in waves. 

‘Dark, it’s too dark. I can’t see. I need to get out of here.’

It was that thought that sent her into a panicked outburst of gasps and sobs. She yanked at her restraints but they did not give. 

Nothing made sense.

‘I’m trapped.’

 

* * * *

 

It seemed like hours before she heard something.

She felt as though she was going mad, unsure of whether or not the sounds in the distance – heavy footsteps and male voices – were real or if the darkness had finally eaten at the last of her waning sanity.

‘Surely they know I’m here. They have to have _put_ me here.’

The thoughts only made her panic settle in, the whole situation unbearably confusing. 

She was terrified. 

The voices sounded excited and were growing louder. 

‘They’re getting closer.’ 

And closer they came. 

She whined, sounding like a trapped animal. 

Closer, closer, closer the footsteps marched toward her hiding place.

‘They’re nearly here.’

She began shaking violently, dark thoughts whirring inside her mind.

Then, all of a sudden, they all stopped and fell silent at once. It was incredibly unnerving. She could hear the sound of a hundred trees swaying in the wind and far off voices, as well as the breathing and dull whispers of the group outside.

'What the fuck is going on?'

Knock, knock.

Her eyes flickered from her knees to what she assumed was the door. Whoever was outside had knocked.

“Girl, I’m coming in.”

That was all the warning she had and, then, it wasn’t pitch black in the room anymore, a crack of light from the open doorway, illuminating the rest of the space. 

She felt like she was going to throw up right then and there. 

Her eyes raced around the faces of the boys outside. They were all young, ranging from what she assumed to be early teens to boys who could easily pass for young men in their early twenties. 

It would’ve been a relief to know she was not alone if it weren’t for the looks on their faces.

‘Hunger.’

Her stomach lurched again, her gaze averting to her more immediate surroundings. 

Cobblestone floor, caked with mud and hay, it’s grey stones cracked, worn. Weeds grew through the spaces between each paver.The ceiling was much too low and smelt of sour milk and rat droppings. The windows had been boarded up in a seemingly rushed effort, and she could see that the rest of the room was totally bare. 

‘It looks like a prison.’

She watched as a burly boy with wide shoulders and arched brows stepped inside. He wore a smile that looked more cruel than kind.

Then he swung the heavy door shut behind him and they were alone.

'Fuck.'

“Well,” he began, voice gruff and husky, sinister, almost making a show of placing a set of keys down far, far from her reach before turning back to her, “It’s nice to meet you, greenbean.” 

He walked towards her, like an animal closing in on its prey, already knowing that he has her cornered. 

She was fearful of what would come. 

Her eyes never left his, not even once, wary.

They looked like the eyes of a shark.

‘Sharks. What an odd thing to remember.'

“My name’s Gally,” his voice snapped her out of her thoughts, his oddly gentle tone making her skin crawl, “I’m in charge around here.”

It felt like her heart was about to burst it was beating so fast, so hard.

Then she could smell him standing over her. He smelt of sweat and fresh grass and manure and something undeniably male, altogether an overwhelmingly musky odour. 

His was breath was heavy and reeking of bad oral hygiene as he towered over her. 

She realised just how big Gally was compared to her. 

Her eyes flickered to his feet – heavy leather boots, caked in mud. 

'He could break my bones with those boots.' 

She jolted when she felt his fingers snake through her hair, making her squeak.

Gally’s fingers were surprisingly tender, massaging at her scalp lightly.

But then he continued.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he purred, smirk appearing on his cracked lips.

He looked as though he was a starving man about to carve up a pig to eat for the first time in his life. 

She shivered, the adrenaline wearing off into sheer terror. 

“What?” her voice was tiny, the violent shaking of her body made it difficult to even speak, “I don’t know what’s going on, I can’t remember anything. Gally, right? Please let me go.”

That’s when the huge boy dropped to her level on his knees, head lulling to one side as he examined his prize, frenzied eyes devouring every inch of her pale flesh. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

His response made her sob outwardly.

Gally reached out to stroke her thighs, smacking at her lightly when she tried to move away from the touch. His face came to rest in the crook of her neck as he indulged himself.

Dirty nails ran along her collarbone. 

His stinking breath washed over her throat. 

She could see his body language change in mere seconds, from curiosity to arousal. 

Roughly he nudged both her arms away from where they were covering her breasts, his calloused hands gripping her wrists. When she struggled, he sank his teeth into her shoulder, not stopping until he broke the skin and drew blood.

He smiled against her skin, watching her bleed, listening to her cry, before letting his tongue lap at the brilliant red that trickled from her wound. 

It made him moan.

“Please,” she begged, voice ragged, looking at him in his shark eyes now, desperate, “Please don’t do this.” 

His fingertips began skirting over her exposed breasts, tweaking her nipples harshly, before he grew bored and started biting at them with no regard for her cries of pain.

“I’m going to do whatever I want to you,” Gally murmured; tongue flickering out to tease her sore tits as he spoke, “And you are going to make a lot of boys very, very happy.”

The torture made her stir, arousal swelling in her belly without her control. She bucked her hips, earning a firm hand around her throat.

“Whore.”

She sobbed and struggled meekly, managing a gurgling moan as he choked her off with ease, his grip tightening around her throat.

Her fingertips grappled at his forearms, pushing with all her might at them - which did nothing at all. It was no use trying to fight him.

‘He’s too big, too strong.’

He choked her so long her vision began to fade and her body went limp. It was only then that he released his grip and she fell to the floor, heaving for breath. 

Breathing felt amazing.

Gally grabbed her round the middle and pulled her back upright, despite her weak pushing at his chest. 

‘I can’t stop this.’

The realisation stung more harshly than the way he was biting at her lips, drawing blood with one particularly harsh nip.

She hissed at him in response. 

His knee pushed between her quivering thighs, forcefully spreading her legs apart. 

She didn’t have any fight left in her.

With lidded eyes she peered upwards, chest heaving, to glare at Gally with stinging eyes.

Her whole body was aching.

“I can tell how much you enjoy this,” he stated, entranced by his control over her, “You get off on being helpless, don't you.”

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. 

“No I don’t,” she hissed at him, the venom in her voice potent, “You’re sick, sick, sick! Don't touch me! Get away!”

Her protests earned only his dry lips on hers again, rough and angry. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, tracing the roof of her palate. 

Gally’s fingers were trailing down her body.

Over her ribs.

Past her naval, and then her hipbone. 

She wanted this to be over, she wanted to stop feeling, stop reacting, but the shock of his big, warm digits sliding across her wetness stopped her breathing against the boy’s open mouth. 

The sound earned a smile, his teeth nibbling gently on the tip of her tongue. 

When he pulled away, his pleasure with her reaction was blatant.

“Good girl,” the boy continued, his other hand moving to his cock, tracing over the tent in his linen pants, before he grabbed her by the chin that so she was looking at him, “Come on, open your mouth. Say ‘ah’.”

Gally sniggered at her response, pulling her firmly against his hip by the hair, making her watch as he tugged the waistband of his pants down.

She watched as he exposed an expanse of toned, sun kissed flesh and a trail of curly blonde hairs dipping down to his hardness.

‘It’s angry looking.’

His girth was impressive and length equally so, she supposed, the smell of his crotch too overwhelming too think of much else. 

He jerked the hair in his grip, forcing her to look upwards.

“I won’t ask nicely again,” he purred, free hand gripping at his cock, stroking himself, knowing every which way to touch to make himself feel good, “Open your mouth.”

She shivered, hiccupping out a little breathless sob, before giving in and parting her lips. 

Her eyes met his. It was easily the most shameful moment of her short existence. 

He rubbed his length over her face slowly before boring of the abuse, tugging at her hair roughly again. 

Gally pressed his thumb to the base of his cock, it’s curve making it near impossible to reach at her height without doing so. 

She chose to not prolong the ordeal and obeyed, taking the tip of his arousal into her dry mouth, suckling on it lightly, making the boy hum.

Suddenly, without much warning, he pushed himself further inside her mouth, very nearly gagging her on his cock. 

Drool dribbled from the sides of her mouth as his girth stretched it open. 

“Yessss,” he breathed, rocking into her mouth, staring down at her as she’s forced to take his cock down her throat, “Good girl, let me fuck your mouth.”

She made a whining noise around him, gagging over and over on his dick.

Her throat hurt, her face felt red all over and the tears never seem to stop. The ordeal lasted for a good few minutes.

Gally used her hair to hold her down, her nose brushing into his bushy pubic hair, while he ground and humped her throat.

It seemed like an age before he pulled himself from her mouth, stroking his cock furiously. The stocky boy’s whole body tensing, muscles fluttering under his skin. his face knitting into one of concentration as he worked himself to completion. She watched, mesmerised, as his foreskin slid over the flushed head of his arousal.

Her lidded eyes fluttered upwards, gaze uneasy. 

She was so tired, and she could tell he was too.

“Look at me,” the demand was clear, snapping her back to reality, his voice breathless, “Beg for it.”

“Beg for what?” she asked, groggy and weak.

“My cum, bitch,” he snarled, striking her, a sharp slap, her teeth clamping shut, “Beg me for my cum.”

He sounded so vicious, as though he could turn at any moment and beat her to death to reach the peak of his pleasure instead. 

The thought frightened her.

“Please can I have your cum?” her begging was halfhearted, but it filled her voice with enough shame to seem to satisfy him, “Please, I want it. I want your cum, Gally, please.”

He yanked at her hair again, so hard it made her head spin, as he lurched forward over her, holding onto her tightly. 

“Eugh--!”

His moans turned into carnal snarls as thick ropes of seed erupted from his cock, splattering over her messy face and in her hair. 

The boy’s hands were shaking at the force of his release, his grip having loosened enough for her to move out of the way, his last few splatters of cum dribbling onto her aching breasts. 

She mewled, hoping beyond all hopes that he would be pleased with her and let her be. 

She felt broken. 

She felt confused. 

She felt dirty, with his thick cum dripping into her mouth with every pant of air she took.

He was already pulling his pants up by the time she was able to think without her head pounding too hard to even see. 

‘He’s leaving,’ she thought, ‘Thank god.’

He took one final look over his shoulder at her. sneering. 

“Welcome to the Glade, girl.”

And then it was dark again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sick, I know. I hope you enjoyed my first attempt at smut. x


End file.
